


being a menace, but affectionately. it apparently runs in the family.

by harklights



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Canon Compliant, Coming Out, M/M, everything goes better than expected
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-11-15 04:37:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18066707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harklights/pseuds/harklights
Summary: ennoshita’s weekend mornings involves him hitting his internal snooze button about a million times, but kenji has his ways of getting his way.  in their third year he officially meets the futakuchis as kenji's boyfriend.





	being a menace, but affectionately. it apparently runs in the family.

**Author's Note:**

> this is ..... quite old but deserves to be slapped down somewhere, for the posterity of their relationship and antics.

“You know,” Kenji says to the lump still curled up in bed. “It’s going on one thirty.”

“Okay,” Ennoshita grumbles, and then the rest of his head vanishes beneath the duvet.

Ennoshita stalling for time on weekend mornings is becoming a thing. It’s kind of ridiculous because he takes the concept of _sleeping in_ to a whole new level that’s inaccessible to even Kenji, who isn’t exactly the paradigm of maintaining a proper sleeping schedule. But the problem is that they’ve got _things_ to do over the weekend and Kenji’s already spent a full hour puttering around the kitchen pretending like he wasn’t utterly enthused about how their dates have settled into some sort of weekly routine.

So Kenji walks over to the window and shutters the shades as annoyingly as possible, spinning the little plastic handle between his palms like he’s vigorously praying for good luck. Sunlight slants in bars over a portion of the bed: appearing, vanishing, and reappearing again like morse code begging Ennoshita to _get up already._ He pauses and waits for other signs of life to rise from the depths of the bed, but when nothing else comes he yanks the blinds up with a noisy flourish.

“Okay, okay,” Ennoshita throws the covers back and rubs a hand over his face, voice low and sluggish. He yawns against the back of a hand. “I’m awake.”

“You’ve been awake for like fifteen minutes. I know you do that thing where you wallow in bed for ages. I also know you turned off my alarm, although I don’t know how you got past my _passcode.”_

“I’d rather just sleep with you,” Ennoshita mutters like he does when his filter isn’t quite locked into place yet. Kenji grimaces. A moment later Ennoshita seems to catch his own double entrendre because he looks over and smiles, soft and slow, eyes still lowered to combat the early afternoon light bearing down on his face. The sunshine graces him a little too well, settling over the planes of his neck and tucking into the wrinkles sloping down the front of his shirt, highlighting the messy, sleep-rumpled tufts of hair sticking up on his head.

Kenji’s grimace deepens. “If you don’t get up in ten minutes I’m taking myself to the movies.”

“Your poor date.”

Kenji smiles fiercely and leans over the side of the bed, watching Ennoshita watch him. He settles his palms over the covers pooled in Ennoshita’s lap, sees Ennoshita’s eyes flicker down to Kenji’s mouth and back up in one of his most obvious tells. And so Kenji curls one hand over Ennoshita’s thigh, squeezes the warmth resting there beneath his fingers, and then lets his fingers wander up so he can more easily rip the duvet clean off the bed, laughing when a scandalized noise flies from Ennoshita’s mouth.

*

“Nervous?”

Ennoshita sighs and skirts around a puddle sitting in the middle of the sidewalk. It’s glaringly obvious that they’re holding hands when Kenji lets their arms stretch out between them, but the street is a quiet residential one and there’s no one else around to see him clasping fingers with another boy while they both try to avoid getting their feet wet after a late afternoon shower.

“Maybe a little,” Ennoshita confesses when they come back together.

“Good,” Kenji says. “My family is crazy.”

“Some words of encouragement would be nice. I think most people in this situation would say something like ‘don’t worry, they’ll love you!’”

“One time,” Kenji starts, leading them down a side street, his home just visible in the distant lamplight as they continue their lazy stroll. “One time my sister brought over her boyfriend when she thought no one else was home but we had grandpa over that weekend and the guy got the ‘what are your intentions’ talk of a _lifetime._ It was hilarious. And he couldn’t say anything about it because gramps is, you know, getting up there in age and that would’ve been disrespectful.”

“I’ve met your parents before,” Ennoshita says, more to himself than to Kenji. “They’re nice. You look a lot like your mom.”

“That was just a meet-and-greet. Today you’re coming over as my boyfriend.”

“Only today? What a bargain.”

Kenji shoves him but they’re still linked by the hands so the attack is pretty ineffective. Soon enough the Futakuchi house is a few steps away and they both slow before the door. Ennoshita reaches out, raps his knuckles over the door, and then freezes.

“…Why did I just knock?”

“I have no idea. It was super timid so I doubt anyone heard it.” Kenji twists his key into the lock and steps inside, toeing his shoes off in the genkan.

“That you, Kenji?” A voice calls from inside.

“It’s me!” Kenji calls back, tilting his head toward the inside of the house before lowering his voice again. “Calm down.”

Ennoshita straightens up from where he’d been aligning his shoes, letting Kenji clasp his fingers again. “I’m calm.”

“You are so not, but I’ll let you live with that lie. Come on, put those slippers on, we can’t stay by the door forever.”

“Are we going to keep hold hands?”

“Yep,” Kenji says moments before they turn the corner into the kitchen. It’s warm from whatever was put in the oven, the scent hanging in the air reminding him of his hunger.

“The food will be ready soon. You made it just in time to help set the- Oh.” His mom looks up, finally noticing that Kenji’s not alone. She straightens, slamming the oven door closed a little too noisily.

“Set the table?” Kenji squints, not quite sure how to interpret the smile that overtakes his mom’s face, which feels slightly forced and harassingly sunny. She looks from Kenji to Ennoshita to their still linked hands, and then slips the potholder onto the counter.

“Give it ten more minutes in the oven, would you honey?” She says and then, still smiling, swiftly retreats out of the kitchen.

“Wow,” Kenji mutters, walking to the counter to set the egg timer because he doesn’t trust himself to keep proper time.

“She doesn’t like it?” Ennoshita asks.

“I wouldn’t say that.”

When he turns it’s to see Ennoshita actually looking as nervous as he feels. Perched in a chair, he’s kneading a spot over his heart, gaze stuck on the doorway where his mom disappeared through. “I’m really not made for this sort of thing.”

“Hey,” Kenji says, rushing to grab plates and utensils. “It’s fine. I’ll protect you.”

“We’re talking about your own family here.”

“I know, that’s why I’ll stick up for you.”

“I feel like I’m going to mess up.”

Kenji abandons his task and scrapes a chair close enough to lean into Ennoshita’s space, kissing him soundly on the lips before he can protest. Ennoshita tilts back a second later and starts turning his head. Kenji catches him in the palm of his hand before he can complete the movement, fingers at his chin until Ennoshita, pliant, tilts his head and closes his eyes. There’s trust in that, the way Ennoshita wants to fret but doesn’t because Kenji asks otherwise, and Kenji’s lips softens along with his heart, beating hard when Ennoshita kisses him backs. He thinks, _that’s better._ Moves his hand to the back of Ennoshita’s neck to rubbing at that spot he seeks when he gets nervous or too self-conscious.

Ennoshita opens his mouth to him, lips parting around a sigh that puffs warmly over the skin. He plants a hand on Kenji’s side, grabbing more t-shirt than anything.

Does that thing endearing, unfair where he lingers a bit before blinking his eyes open as if waiting for more or savoring what was given. He’s blushing easier than he usually does too, and it’s nice to see even if it is due to him being a little off-kilter about everything.

Kenji tries to keep his smile small instead of delighted.

“Did that feel messed up?” Kenji asks.

“No. Embarrassing, but no. Of course not.”

“You know I wouldn’t kiss you like that if someone walked in, right? _I’m_ not the exhibitionist in this relationship.”

“Right,” Ennoshita agrees a little mindlessly, and Kenji silently promises that he’s definitely bringing that one up later even as he lets it go for now.

“Good, then let’s not let anyone else mess this up for us. Seriously, I’ll fight them if _this_ changes what they think about you, because you don’t deserve that. Mom’s probably freaking out with dad upstairs so she doesn’t freak out in front of us and freak you out even more. I haven’t brought someone home and introduced them to everyone in ages.”

“So she has more tact than you do.”

“If you’re throwing around insults then you’re totally fine,” he retorts. That humor could be a good sign or it could be Ennoshita talking through his nerves. It seems like the latter because he moves on to say, “You’re out to your family?”

Kenji’s mouth twists. “Not… exactly. But they wouldn’t be surprised if I’m not totally straight, for reasons.”

“Reasons.”

“They can keep an open mind about stuff like this. I’m not scared out of my wits to do this.”

“That’s good, but it sounded like you were referring to something more specific.”

“Like… Maybe I’ve kissed my best friend before.”

“You _what?”_

“I only said that to make you _feel better._ We were kids and it was Christmas and we had just learned what being under the mistletoe meant from watching some dumb movie that was left on–”

“Is this the Aone Story Number Five?”

Kenji twists around to see his sister bouncing down the stairs in soft thumps, socked feet landing gracefully on the floor. She’s already in loungewear, makeup off, her hair twisted up into a high pony tail that makes her look like she’s still in high school too.

“I swear they were dating sometime in primary school but Takanobu is just a sweetheart to everyone and everything. I think Kenji has a type: ‘nicer than he’ll ever be.’”

Ennoshita makes an odd, small noise that sounds an awful like an aborted laugh. He hasn’t moved away much either other than to retract the hand that’d been on Kenji’s side, their legs still tangled, knees knocking together. Kenji swings his gaze between the both of them, eyes narrowed. “Dear sister, can you wait at least five minutes before the gloves come off?”

“You were already talking about it when I got here.”

“It’s _my_ story to tell. _Intellectual property rights.”_

She rolls her eyes. “Aren’t you going to introduce us? I’m Ayumi.”

“Ennoshita Chikara,” Ennoshita says, nice and proper just as the egg timer chimes. Kenji pushes out of his seat to leave them to their pleasantries.

“Oh, Karasuno?” He hears his sister say as he opens the oven, balking from the heat that wafts out. He bats at the dish’s handle with the potholder, sliding it a bare inch forward before hissing and letting go, the pan clattering back onto the rack.

“Baby, don’t drop the dish again.” His mom re-enters the kitchen, followed by his dad. If he’s been informed about the way Kenji and Ennoshita entered together he’s keeping an impressive poker face about it, greeting everyone like normal before rounding on the fridge to take out a pitcher of water. Kenji scrutinizes him for a moment. Decides to take his parents’ nonchalance as a good sign. That, or they’re biding their time for a _talk_ later when things can be kept with the family.

“It’s hot,” Kenji complains, relinquishing the task to his mother, who reaches in to take the food out as if the pits of hell itself couldn’t phase her. He finishes setting the table instead, something fast and easy, everyone moving around each other with practiced ease. “Dad drops more stuff than I do.”

“Not the breakable things.”

Ennoshita and Ayumi are talking about volleyball, because of course. Ayumi seemingly delighted to have Karasuno’s captain over even though she was there when Dateko got crushed by them in their second year and Kenji suffered his own hard transition to captaincy and all it’s burdens, namely Koganegawa. Still, his sister knows enough to be interested in the up-and-coming crows, same as just about anyone who has any interest in Miyagi’s high school volleyball world, and says something about Ennoshita not being like what she expected from what she’s heard about the team.

Ennoshita says he gets that a lot and mentions something dramatic about a legacy and a Daichi-san.

Ayumi laughs, charmed by Ennoshita’s penchant for straight-faced aggrandizement just like everyone else.

‘No loyalty’ Kenji mouths when he catches Ennoshita’s glance. They smile at each other.

The table gets set quickly after that. Ennoshita keeps his seat even though it’s on the side that Ayumi prefers. She simply moves to another chair and lets the two of them sit next to each other.

They eat, and Kenji forgets himself to his hunger after the first bite until he’s sated enough to tune back in to the sporadic conversation bouncing around the table.

“So,” his dad begins, refreshing his glass of water. “How long have you boys been dating?”

Kenji fumbles his utensils. A pickled side dish splatters off his plate and his sister doesn’t even give him grief for the clumsiness, her mouth pressed into a thin line. _The talk is going to happen now._ The table grows dead silent save for the thunk of the pitcher being set back down.

“Um…” Ennoshita says, sounding shell shocked yet determined. He clears his throat. “A little over two months now.”

“That long? Were you planning on keeping your relationship a secret?”

“T-That wasn’t my intention.”

“Then did you have something to prove by announcing it this way?”

“Oh, come on,” Kenji interrupts. “We’re here now, aren’t we? Do you guys have a problem with it or not? Because we really didn’t have to do this at all but we did.”

“It’s fine if they have questions-” Ennoshita starts.

“Nope.”

“Kenji.”

“Nope,” he grits out, harder still. “Because if there’s a problem I want to hear that instead of sit here and listen to my boyfriend get the start of an interrogation. You all were acting so cool with it earlier and now you want to switch things up?”

Another silence. Ayumi’s biting her lip now, so quiet that it’s getting weird. His mom and dad exchange glances with each other. Ennoshita is just still, his eyes lowered to his plate, and if that’s not enough to have Kenji’s mouth flying open again-

Ayumi blurts, “I told you he’d get mad!”

“Oh,” his mom sighs, a mix of a laugh and a gasp. “That turned out not at all like what I was expecting. I only wanted to test how serious you two were about each other.”

“I’m dying,” Ayumi moans, laughing with gusto now, clutching her stomach. Kenji glares daggers. “I’ve never seen him get so chivalrous before!”

“Can… someone please,” Ennoshita starts. “Explain what’s happening?”

“They were just messing around,” Kenji clarifies. “They don’t mind that we’re dating.”

“I heard you crooning to him one night cuz you’re a real loud talker over the phone sometimes.” Ayumi says, blowing over Kenji’s indigence. _Crooning?_ “I didn’t know who it was until a few minutes ago but it all fell into place pretty easy after we met.”

“I just want you to be happy no matter what Kenji, and I could tell someone was doing that for you lately. Ennoshita, sweetheart, I am so sorry if this caused you any stress. We more than accept you. You’re very welcome here.”

“I…” Ennoshita breathes. “Thank you. I thought I swallowed my heart for a moment.”

 _“See?_   Dad?” Kenji demands.

“Your mom put me up to it. She said I had the better face for it.”

 _“Mom.”_ Kenji groans, sinking lower in his seat, irritation and relief a heady mix in his stomach. “This family. That couldn’t even count as a shovel talk! What was the point!”

“Now, I’ll be sure to reflect on this later and never try being clever again. Let’s just calm down and eat. We’ve tortured our poor guest enough.”

“And what about your _poor son?”_

Beside him, Ennoshita has the gall to laugh. It’s soft and short like he’s still recovering from the whiplash, but he reaches over and places a hand over Kenji’s knee too, shifting closer in his seat. The small contact grounds him, unseen under the table but obvious in the way that Ennoshita gravitates towards him, brave enough to speak as if they’re together in private.

“You’re fine,” he says, slow and low. Talking him down, hand firm. The reassurance settles Kenji’s jumping pulse. “It’s fine.”

*

They survive the ordeal. Somehow. Dinner moves onto conversation, everyone migrating from the table to the living room. The apologies circulate again but Ennoshita brushes them all away with ease, saying he came in expecting the worst possible outcomes anyway, which makes Kenji’s dad throw in an apology too for the theatrics. Kenji mutters about unnecessary cruelty and earns Ayumi continuing the Aone Story Number Five from earlier, followed by another embarrassing childhood story dredged up from memories so far back that Kenji can’t even steer the conversation into a less mortifying direction because he doesn’t remember the time he took his dad’s stamp and went to town on the newly painted walls with it.

He grits his teeth only because Ennoshita is smiling and leaning against him on the couch, fully relaxed at last.

So the night unwinds. They all head upstairs.

Kenji reclines on his side propped up onto an elbow, Ennoshita lying on his back beside him, hair still damp from a bath. Kenji reaches out to drag the towel that’s tucked beneath Ennoshita’s head away, who lets him do so but complains, “I’ll get your pillow wet.”

“Don’t care.”

Kenji drops the towel careless over the side of the bed, smooths his fingers along Ennoshita’s collarbone, and then straight center down his sternum, repeating the T again when done.

Ennoshita’s physique is different from his own. Kenji has always been on the lanky side as soon as his growth spurt found him, and even though he doesn’t win by _that_ much in the height category their proportions are different enough to warrant exploration: Ennoshita stockier, broader at the shoulders, his waist solid when Kenji cups it. Putting on more muscle between the hard work of third year stress and captaincy. Not much – he maps progress more in day to day bruises and exasperated, proud sighs over the phone than long term flesh and blood – but it’s certainly more than enough to appreciate.

Kenji’s thumb scraping over the fine trail of hair starting just below Ennoshita’s belly button, tracing it all the way to the elastic resting around his hips. Ennoshita shifts but seems content to languish with the attention. He’s easy and indulgent about intimacy more often than not when they’re laid out like this, letting Kenji take the lead. Taking them everywhere or nowhere at all.

And since there are no complaints, Kenji nudges away the hand Ennoshita has folded over his stomach so he can stroke a full line down his chest, not missing the way Ennoshita’s next breath comes deeper and quicker than the last.

“What are you thinking about?” Kenji asks.

“How you petting me is kind of weird but nice.”

“How nice?”

“Don’t start.”

Kenji turns his attention the leg closest to him, the one that Ennoshita has bent at the knee. Starting there, he catches the fabric of his boxers and pushes it up on the way towards Ennoshita’s hip, fingers sliding across each inch of revealed skin. Tilts inward, grazing over skin softer and warmer than the rest, and digs his nails in quick and possessive, feeling the muscles jolt at the contact.

“How nice?” Kenji asks again, grinning.

Ennoshita makes a noise in the back of his throat and lets his leg flatten out against the bed, trying to escape the touch, but Kenji’s hand just falls with the motion. “You’re really going to have to stop now.”

“Really?” Kenji echoes, roguish, scratching heavy lines across his skin and then tracing over the red trails left behind with light fingertips. He feels a definite shiver this time, watches Ennoshita mask fluttering eyelids with a series of blinks.

“I’m not above asking for a futon to sleep on instead, and then everyone will know that you were acting up and we’ll never have the luxury of sharing the same bed again.”

“Listen. I aim to misbehave.”

“Kenji…” Ennoshita warns, any seriousness marred by the way he tilts his head, the start of a smile on his lips.

“You liked it back in the kitchen.”

“I’m beginning to realize how low of a tactic that was.”

Kenji laughs and pops up onto his knees, reaching over Ennoshita to fumble for the switch to his bedside lamp, who braces a hand against him when he nearly overtips. He manages to flick the light out and shuffle back onto his side of the bed without tumbling over.

The blinds are open. The moonlight is plenty to see by once his eyes adjust to it.

Satisfaction for how well things turned out finally begins to sink in. Kenji hadn’t exactly been on edge the entire time, anxiety spiking only during the dinner incident, but he recognizes the relief that fills him now, warm and lax as they settle against each other in Kenji’s bed under Kenji’s roof while Kenji’s family knows that they’re not just friends and _accepts_ it.

It’s something to marvel at, the both of them wrapped up in comfortable silence together. He can hear water running somewhere down the hall – his sister getting ready for bed – and the creak of his parents’ bedroom door; closer to his ear, Ennoshita’s steady breathing, his heartbeat when Kenji scoots down to commandeer his shoulder for a pillow; beating a little fast still, something else to smile about.

He didn’t think he would feel this _light_ afterwards, too keyed up to sleep yet too comfortable to even think about moving.

Ennoshita’s arm squeezes around him, quiet. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Kenji replies. “What exactly are you thanking me for?”

“Just… For being so good tonight. I know I started panicking and you helped me calm down.”

“Yeah, well,” Kenji concedes. “I knew they’d love you. Even if they were way too extra about it.”

“At least now I know where you get it from.”

“Wow. Turn it down a notch. It’s already bedtime.”

Ennoshita answers by taking the arm that Kenji has slung around him and bringing his hand to his mouth, kissing the tips of Kenji’s fingers and then the palm of his hand, calluses and all.

“Pretty cheesy,” Kenji remarks around the stutter of his heart. He feels himself beginning to blush.

“I know you’re weak for this.”

“Absolutely,” Kenji retorts, too breathless when Ennoshita flicks his tongue quick and hot into the dip between two fingers, as if that’s a normal thing. “Shut up.”

“It’ll take me a while to fall asleep,” Ennoshita says, relenting. Thank god for small mercies.

“Me too. However will we ever find something interesting to talk about?”

That earns a laugh, a pause, and then Ennoshita plucks down the first topic that comes to mind and they lose time to the words that dart between them.


End file.
